


Job Interview

by orphan_account



Series: House and Cameron moments [1]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, In Character, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6645040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Cameron's job interview with House might have gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Job Interview

**Author's Note:**

> A disclaimer, as usual: I own none of the characters and so on.

"Hi, I'm Dr Cameron, and I am here for the job interview in the department of Diagnostic medicine. Could you please tell me where it is located?"  
A young woman with a neat ponytail wearing suit pants and a matching jacket over a simple white blouse has just entered the PPTH through the glass doors and is standing in front of a receptionist. It's 11-55.  
Her morning was all the same routine. Get up at 6-00, shower, dry her hair, dress up, get some coffee, get into the car. But the destination was special. Some days earlier she received an invitation to a job interview for a fellowship in Dr House's department. The same amount of days after, it still felt like a surprise that she got it. She wasn't really expecting it, being always so modest. But then again, she did apply for the job. And that meant ambition, a need to prove herself, the motivation that carried her through all her life, strangely combined with her compassion and humility.  
"Sure. You'll want to take the elevator to the fourth floor, then on your right, you'll see the sign on a door," receptionist smiles.  
Cameron thanks her and goes upstairs. She is nervous, but she keeps saying to herself that it's just an interview. If they have invited her then her resume must've been impressive enough already. It's not as if someone's going to ask her to name all the bones of a human body in Latin alphabetically. Surely not.  
It's 11-59 when she walks up to the glass door which reads "Gregory House, M. D." She glances at her invitation letter which she holds in hands along with the copies of resume, her diplomas and recommendations, and it says "12-00".  
She is confused though, because as she looks through the glass, it doesn't seem as if anyone is waiting for her. She sees two men sitting across each other at a table, one facing her and another with his back turned to the door. They are having lunch together or so she gets from the picture of the cafeteria take-away food on the table. They seem not to notice her, and she is hesitant whether to come in or wait outside, and while she is deciding she catches herself involuntarily watching the two of them.  
The man with his back to her has brown, shiny hair and is wearing a lab coat, and that's pretty much all she gets from eyeing his back. The other one is, on the contrary, a more interesting view. He is wearing a worn black t-shirt; his hair is greying and curly; he seems to be telling something as he gestures in the air. He isn't particularly good-looking, but attractive as he tries to persuade his counterpart in something she can't hear. She finds herself observing him closely when he nods to the man in a lab coat and smiles.  
He smiles and then lets out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly backwards. His facial expression is so genuine and unreserved that Cameron finds herself smiling too. Which is when he finally notices her standing outside the glass door. He waves her to come in, everything merry wiped out of his face as fast as it has appeared.  
As she steps in, gently closing the door after her, she meets with the face of the lab coat man, who turns to her. She notices his warm dark eyes and a pointed nose. He seems to be surprised by her appearance.  
"Hi," she says stopping halfway from the door to the table, "I am Dr Cameron, and I have an appointment for an interview," she comes closer and places her documents in front of the man who waved her in. "I assume you're Dr House."  
He nods, and takes a quick look at her file. "You're late." It's odd but only thing she capable of thinking now is how his voice really suits his looks. Distant and non chalant, but simultaneously deeply intense.  
"Please take a seat," the other man suggests, pointing to a chair next to him, and she complies.  
"No, Wilson, I've not forgotten about the interview," House says a bit irritated, following the questioning look on his colleague's face. "Not my fault if the HR sets an appointment during my lunchtime."  
"Anyway, I have to go. A patient," Wilson sighs.  
"Is he dying?" House inquiries.  
Wilson shakes his head.  
Cameron darts her gaze from one man to another, waiting for her cue to start talking.  
Wilson shakes his head again in disapproval and walks out, leaving her tête à tête with House.  
"So," House turns to her. "Tell me about yourself."  
A standard interview question: "Describe yourself in two sentences". Cameron never liked them. It's so hard to start, but she feels the tension in the air that predicts her interview to be over very soon unless she speaks something and decides to stick to the facts.  
"My main specialization is immunology, " she starts, "but I'm also interested in medicine as a whole, that's why I have applied for this position. I look for the opportunities to broaden my view and deepen my knowledge from this fellowship."  
She catches her breath, and since no-one is interrupting, continues. "I graduated from the University of Chicago, and then Pritzker School of Medicine as well. During that time I also attended the exchange courses here in Princeton, so that's how I-"  
She suddenly registers that House is not listening to her. Instead, he has continued his lunch, sipping his soda in through a straw with a loud and most disturbing sound.  
"Well, in fact, it's all there in the resume," she concludes abruptly, "no need to recite it again." If he's not interested, then why bother? She is annoyed, and wonders if all the rumors about his rudeness and uncaring attitude are not just rumors.  
He sets his drink aside, sitting upright in his chair and Cameron is all at once aware of how tall he is.  
"Then what are you doing here?" He asks.  
"What do you mean what I'm doing?"  
"If it's all in the resume, what are the interviews for?" House explains impatiently. "That is a very good question, by the way," he mutters, and makes no attempt at hiding just how much he hates doing these interviews.  
"Obviously, the interviews are for asking the questions the answers for which are not in the resume, " she replies.  
House looks at her, slightly surprised by her rebuke, the "Why are you still here again?" clearly written on his face.  
"What is your favorite sex position?" He asks matter-of-factly. "Is it in the resume?" He adds when all she is doing is blushing and jaw-dropping. Maybe the rumors were in fact underestimating.  
"Then shut up and continue," he finally adds, leaning back into his chair.  
Cameron is baffled. More than anything she wants to point out that his instructions are mutually exclusive, but her spirit is down and she doesn't dare.  
"I did an internship at the Mayo clinic-" she goes on.  
She doesn't stop this time, even as he suddenly stands up and comes up to her rounding the narrower side of the table. It is the first time she sees him walking and notices his limp. His movements are nevertheless graceful and quick, so in a moment she finds him standing right next to her on her left. And in a moment more, he is leaning in, craning his neck to stare at the floor under her chair.  
That is unnerving. The man surely has boundary issues, she thinks. She can't really continue as he invades her personal space with his presence and the faintest smell of soap, leather and rubber.  
"What's so interesting there?" She exclaims.  
"Exactly, what is it?" House echoes. "You keep staring, thought I'd better check myself." His sarcasm is obvious and she feels angry. She realizes that she was doing that again, a nasty habit of looking down at her feet when she was confused or distressed.  
He stops craning and remarks: "It's not polite to look down when you're talking to someone. Someone might think you're hiding something or lying. "  
Is he seriously talking politeness? Impossible!  
Cameron lifts her head up and turns to face him, finding his face merely inches from hers.  
"Can you look me in the eyes?" He dares her, mockingly. "You can't-"  
But she is done playing. She's angry, and not hiding it. She stares right into his eyes, locks her gaze and holds it. It's the first time she notices how amazingly blue his eyes are. This day is full of "first times", and somehow she is certain that many of those things she'll never be able to forget. He seems amused and curious a bit, as he looks down at her, searching for some answers in her. And after seconds pass, which feels like eternity for Cameron, he seems to find whatever he was looking for, because the corners of his mouth curl up just the slightest bit, a faint reminder of the open smile she's seen earlier, wrinkling the skin around his eyes a little. "Cool," he says quietly, and leaves to sit back in his place.  
After he's seated, he pulls a patient file from the drawer, placing on a table with a thump! sound, which wakes her from some kind of trance induced by their "who blinks first" game.  
"Okay!" He's almost cheerful. "Enough of boring stuff, let's have some real fun." He opens a file, holding it away from her.  
Cameron feels strangely relieved. It's probably because the file means medicine talk, and that is what she is actually prepared for. That is what she was trained for all those years of hard work.  
House holds the file like a shield between them. "A patient, 38-years old female, presents with abdominal pain, nausea and fatigue." His face pops out to the side of the opened file, looking at her in expectation, his brows arched up.  
"It could be food poisoning," she offers.  
He doesn't look satisfied, putting the file away to lie shut on the table. "Did I mention fun?"  
She isn't quite sure what he means with that. Is the answer wrong? There's not enough information to decide. Does he really just want it to be entertaining?  
"Infection? Gastroenteritis? I mean, it could be a million things," she tries. "Pregnancy?"  
House is suddenly very gloomy. "Wild guessing now?" It looks like he regrets having started this.  
"No, I... Do you have any other symptoms or test results in that file?"  
She reaches for the item, but he is quick to snap it from under her arm. "No cheating!"  
"While you're messing about, the patient also develops rectal bleeding," he adds in a irritated tone, "looses so much blood she needs a transfusion."  
He's so impressively convincing about this imaginary patient, she almost feels a genuine worry about the woman. What she also feels, is resentment. He's just accused her of making a patient's condition worse. He doesn't give her any data to deal with! This is absurd.  
"Then I'll do the transfusion!" She raises her voice without realizing it. "And then ultrasound her-"  
"Okay!" This time it sounds as a threat. "It's over."  
Cameron blinks. What? The interview is over? What was it all about? What was it, exactly? She is ready to stand up, when he speaks again.  
"And by 'it', of course, I mean the patient," he keeps looking at the ceiling, as if searching for an inspiration, "The patient is dead."  
"What? Why?" She almost cries.  
"Before she died," he continues, "she had just the time needed to say she had a feeling of impending doom."  
"Are you implying that I gave her the wrong blood type? That I screwed up?" Cameron hisses. "That's impossible!" Why is she even excusing herself? She hates doing that.  
House seems to be extremely interested in his fingers, thoughtfully staring down.  
"But you're such a good doctor, aren't you? I think her blood type just changed over night. Happens all the time here," he finally looks at her, his face tired and faded.  
"First, you're picking random symptoms," she stands up, "now you're simply making it up?"  
House follows her with a neutral expression as she steps up to him, her hands on her hips. "If we're telling stories here, I have a better one."  
She makes a small pause, but he doesn't try to stop or interrupt her.  
"What if," she bends forward to him a little, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial manner, "what if she has an evil twin with a different blood type that slips in to screw with our diagnosis?"  
House rolls his eyes.  
"Do you have a dumb twin?" He asks out of the blue. "Because a twin... could..." His face freezes.  
Abruptly, he stands up and walks past Cameron, unceremoniously urging her to jump aside with his cane.  
She's left alone and shocked.  
The first thing she does, however, is peering into the aforementioned patient file. It's an outdated history of a 23-years old man with diabetes. Despite everything, Cameron can't help smiling and shaking her head in disbelief. Did she seriously fall for that nonexistent patient? She is only hoping that she's figured it out soon enough not to get too invested in the case.  
She sits in his office, waiting for House to return any time soon. But about twenty minutes pass and he isn't back. He probably won't be.  
She leaves the office to sit down on a couch situated outside it just opposite to the entrance, when she sees a name on a neighboring door. Wilson, was it that other's man name?  
She knocks gently on the door.  
"Come in!"  
"Dr Wilson, if I may bother you-"  
Wilson looks up from his writing. He smiles and she smiles back. "You're the one from the interview, right?"  
"Yes. It's just ended... very suddenly. Dr House simply walked out on me. Is it a bad sign?"  
"Can't really tell," shrugs Wilson. "Do you need any help on your way out?"  
"Thanks. If I'm not distracting you."  
"Not all distractions are bad," Wilson notes. "Especially if they involve beautiful women."  
"Will I be informed on the results of the interview?" Cameron asks as she walks out of the door which Wilson holds open for her.  
"Yeah, we'll let you know." Although he doesn't sound so sure.

* * *

Later that day Wilson returns to his office. It's about time to go home, and he just wants to recheck that the lights are off and grab his things.  
But what he sees upon entering, is House, resting on his couch.  
"Are you going to spend a night here?" Wilson inquiries. "I'm going home and locking the door."  
House is not bothered, and looks quite content. Either the world has turned upside down and the grumpy doctor is not miserable anymore, or, simply, he's just solved his case.  
Wilson sits down beside his friend. "I heard you had an epiphany. Solved the case?"  
"You heard, didn't you?" House replies lazily, but narrows his eyes in suspicion.  
Wilson isn't going to satisfy his friend's curiosity before his own one. "A twin, huh?"  
"Tween," House says, " Tween 80, or polyoxyethylene sorbitan monooleate. Harmless for almost everyone, except those who have Crohn's".  
Wilson nods, and it's his turn.  
"Yeah, we talked. With Dr Cameron, I mean," Wilson provides carelessly. Usually it's House who knows things in advance, so when it's the other way around, it feels so good.  
"She was lost and needing help," he adds.  
House gets more pleased. "And you just couldn't stay away, could you?" He smiles.  
"I could," his friend protests, "but I didn't."  
They spend a little time in silence which is comfortable for both. "So, are you going to hire her? Seems a good choice. She's smart and nice, can tolerate you, and you've got a brain wave talking to her, meaning you can work together alright," Wilson concludes.  
House seems to be surprised by the question, but his reply is fast: "Whatever my decision is, I'm not telling you."  
"Is that because I've left your interview this morning? This is childish, you must learn that I have responsibilities."  
"No, it's because you're interested," House answers.  
"You won't tell me because I asked? Am I the only one to see the flaw in logic here?" Wilson asks rhetorically. "You do realize," he continues, "that I work here, in an office next to yours, and I'll be able to see whether she shows up for work in a few days or not?"  
"But for a few days, you'll be anxious," House remarks and then leaves.

* * *

Returning from her morning jogging, Cameron checks her mailbox on her way, as usual. Entering her home and kicking off her sneakers she skims through the mail, throwing away the ads and discount flyers. When she stumbles upon an envelope signed "Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital" she feels her pulse rocketing up.  
She sits down and opens it none too carefully, risking to tear the letter inside. She finds a dozen of papers with lots of text in small font. She looks through the papers, and to her delight, finds a positive result of her interview, when a half sheet falls out. It reads  


>   
>  [](http://tinypic.com?ref=25pmxhg)   
> 

Cameron smiles happily. She feels victorious, and it looks like it's going to be fun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first fanfic about House. It's meant as a one-shot, although I can see where it could go further (potential Hameron).  
> I've recently watched the House series for the first time (yes, I know it's been over 10 years now, but better late than never) and totally loved it.  
> I'm not American, nor a native English speaker, and I'm not a doctor, so I apologize for all the mistakes found in the fic (I also will greatly appreciate if they are pointed out)  
> I liked a lot House/Holmes connections, so I tried to use it too; the cipher text reads: "You are hired".
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
